The door closed behind Ashley with a soft click that echoed like thunder in the sudden silence of the room. Xavier stood frozen, his hand still extended toward where she had been, fingers grasping empty air. His chest tightened with a potent mixture of guilt, confusion, and the lingering warmth of his night with Calypso.
A soft, suppressed snort broke the tension.
Xavier turned to see Calypso sitting on the edge of the bed, a silk sheet pulled up to her chest, her shoulders trembling. She pressed her lips together, but her eyes danced with unrestrained mischief, pink irises sparkling in the morning light. Another snort escaped, and then she dissolved into giggles.
"Well," she managed between laughs, "that was... dramatic."
Xavier's guilt curdled into exasperation. "Dramatic? Are you serious right now?" He lowered his arm and began pacing, his bare feet slapping against the cold stone floor. "Ashley felt everything, Calypso. Everything. She hasn't slept all night because of us."
